


Setting The Mood

by Sarah_M



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fate, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 21:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16292300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_M/pseuds/Sarah_M
Summary: The moment they open the door to their room two things become immediately apparent. One is that the room is incredibly small and there is not much space available to actually give each other any space, and other is that Ethan the clerk clearly has different understanding of what a double means.“He said there were two beds!” he glares at the lone bed occupying the majority of the floor area as though it was an offence to them both.If it wasn’t bad enough that they’ve been caught in a thunder storm together, leaving them soaking wet, now they have to spend the night in the same motel room in the same bed. It’s the beginnings of a clichéd romance novel - and that is not what they need.





	Setting The Mood

**Author's Note:**

> A few of my personal favorite tropes all wrapped up together for your reading (and my writing) pleasure. Ended up a lot longer than I intended and maybe only half as well rounded as I intended too, but here it is. Set somewhere post season four given the episode reference within - could be four, five or seven I suppose! Your pick. 
> 
> Unbeated - my apologies for any stubborn mistakes that slipped through the cracks.

The universe is against them.

They are soaked to the bone. Rain falling with such force that it bounces off the ground, ensuring they are literally being drenched from every angle. The rental car they’d hired had broken down less than a half mile back down the quiet evergreen lined highway leaving them stranded. The cell phone reception stinks out in this little backwards part of the state now the storm has started, so help isn’t coming - certainly not at this hour of night. And despite Carter’s insistence that she could fix it whatever is wrong, it’s too dark to really see anything properly and too dangerous to be riding out a thunderstorm under the hood of the car.

They’re on supposed to be following a lead on an Earth based assignment handed over to them by the NID. Daniel and Teal’c have their own agenda to worry about; arriving a few hours before them they had and had taken a separate - and hopefully more reliable - rental car. Meeting up in town this evening is not going to be an option anymore with the way the weather is behaving. However as luck should have it they had not long passed a motel, and both came to the same conclusion pretty quickly to abandon the car overnight and trek back to see if they could grab some rooms until morning.

The ‘no vacancy’ neon sign flickers at them spitefully as they trudge up the path to the reception office which is thankfully still attended. Thoroughly wet and a little muddy they push through the door with their duffle bags each slung over a shoulder. The ring of a bell above the door greets them more cheerily than the distinctly disinterested young man sitting behind the counter. _Ethan_ his name tag reads.

“Evening,” Jack smiles with a feigned enthusiasm, “Fine weather you’re having here.”

“You’re wet,” he states dully, chewing his gum, his eyes leaving the comic book in his hands.

“Nothing gets past you does it…” Jack says glib.

“Is there any chance of us getting a room tonight?” Sam interjects, her hands folding up under her arms to hold herself as she shivers at the coolness of the air conditioning in the small and drab reception space. She hates feeling like a drown rat - on this world or any other.

“Sign says no.”

This guy could not sound more indifferent. Suddenly Jack’s pleased that water is pooling on the linoleum beneath his muddy boots, because it’s probably going to annoy young Ethan later. “We can see that. What we want to know is if you are _sure_ there’s nothing. Sometimes these things aren’t always up to the minute.”

Sam flashes a smile at clerk and uses her most polite tone, trying a different angle then whatever the Colonel is going for. “We’re with the air force. I’m Major Carter this is Colonel O’Neill - our car died not far down the road and we are kind of in a bind here. We could really use a place to stay if you can help?”

The young man sighs still providing them with the same bored expression as he reluctantly puts his reading material down. “If you’re desperate I do have one room - but it’s not exactly up to scratch. I’m not really supposed to let it out to anyone.”

Jack eyes him suspiciously, “When you say not up to scratch - are we talking bedbugs or just that the magic fingers aren’t working?”

“The hot water is on the fritz and the TV is broken. You can have it cheap if you still want it.”

“I can live with that. Carter, can you live with that?” Casting a look over at his second who is positively drenched and shivering ever so slightly. She looks slightly miserable being this wet and - if he’s being really honest - damn appealing with her clothing clinging to her body the way that it is.

“Yes sir I can live with that.”

Considering his last thought, he turns his attention back to the clerk. “Is it at least a double?”

“Yeah, it’s a double.”

“Excellent. We’ll take it.”

 

The moment they open the door to their room two things become immediately apparent. One is that the room is incredibly small and there is not much space available to actually give each other any space, and other is that Ethan the clerk clearly has a different understanding of what a double means.

“He said there were two beds!” he glares at the lone bed occupying the majority of the floor area as though it was an offence to them both.

If it wasn’t bad enough that they’ve been caught in a thunder storm together, leaving them soaking wet, now they have to spend the night in the same motel room _in the same bed._ It’s the beginnings of a clichéd romance novel - and that _is not_ what they need.

She is giving their sleeping space the same incredulous look that he is. “Actually sir, you asked if it was a double and _it is_ a double. I think what you should have asked is if it was a twin.”

“Semantics.”

“The sort of semantics that leave us with one bed…”

Continuing to stare at the bed as though it will somehow magically change, they take a few seconds to contemplate how difficult achieving any decent level of sleep is going to be. Sharing a bed platonically with the person you are not only attracted to, but have deep, long-lasting, complicated feelings for is a stretch for anyone. Which is exactly why they never share a tent off world; so they can avoid situations like this.

“Better than sleeping in the car right?”

Sucking in a slow breath she nods. “Sure, it’s not a problem.” Except for the part where it is - and as a whole, continues to be the biggest on-going problem in her personal life.

Their eyes meet and in that moment, with the rain beating down outside and the thunder rolling in behind them, they both know they are thinking the same thing. She makes the mistake of letting her eyes fall to his lips and his eyebrow quirks up ever so slightly in surprise.

Breaking her gaze away she swallows uncomfortably, deciding they both need a distraction. “Let’s just get out of these clothes and take a shower,” she suggests as she moves to place her wet bag on the small desk near the bathroom door. “Separately!” she quickly adds her wide alarmed eyes snapping to meet his again. “I meant _separately_.”

There’s something about her uncomfortable state that really appeals to him and he can’t help but smirk at her. “I didn’t doubt it. Ladies first.”

She doesn’t take any convincing and locks herself in the pokey bathroom gratefully.

Moving to the desk he places his duffle next to hers and starts digging through it for his spare clothes. The second his hand reaches in he knows they’ve got a new problem to add to their situation. This one is going to make the bed seem like child’s play.

“Uh. Carter?” he calls out carefully with a wince. He hears the water from the basin cut off and her head pops out of the bathroom with a questioning look. “Don’t suppose your bag is any more water proof than mine?”

By the state of the sodden clothing in his hands, she doesn’t take long to cotton onto his dilemma. “Are those your spare clothes?”

“They’re very wet.”

“Yes sir they are.”

Opening her own bag with a less than perfect optimism, she discovers what was hoping not to find. Everything is wet. Pressing her eyes closed she contemplates this new bonus that’s been added to their rapidly declining circumstances. Silence stretches between them uncomfortably as they hold their wet clothing in their hands.

“Maybe they have those fancy white bath robes around here somewhere… that they sometimes have…” he tries hopefully. The pointed glare he receives in return tells him what he already knows; this is so not the place that has those.

He’s already thought of a solution - if you can call it that. There is one dry thing they do have here that they can wear and the way her head tilts back and her eyes squeeze shut tells him she’s considering the same thing and in turn what a colossally bad idea that is.

“So we are spending the night in the same motel room, in the same bed, _wearing towels_ ,” she says critically to the ceiling.

He sighs, trying to release the mounting tension from his body and maybe some of hers too. “Carter, I am very carefully not reading into this. Can you do your best to just do that with me? We’re going to be fine - this is so not the worst thing to happen to us.”

“Yes sir,” she agrees resigned.

“Now, I’ll hang these somewhere to dry overnight while you shower.”

“Okay.”

 

While she showers he calls Daniel and Teal’c on the landline to tell them where they’ve holed up for the night, asking them to come meet them here in the morning. Then hangs his clean wet clothes strategically over the chair and desk to dry and absolutely does not think about how Samantha Carter is on the other side of the wall showering. Naked. And when she comes out, she’ll still be naked under a towel. Thank god he’s still wet and cold.

The second the door opens he can’t stop his eyes from shooting over to see her. It’s a mistake. And he realises immediately what a shockingly shit idea this is. Because she’s beautiful. And she's Sam.

Hair tousled, framing her face and sticking to her neck in places. Face fresh and her exposed skin glowing from the heat of the shower. White towel pulled tight around her middle, secured only by a fold under her arm, covering her nude form beneath. Long legs smooth and tempting, showing more of her creamy thighs than he has ever been privy to before. And painted toe nails decorating her bare feet - a sweet little surprise.

His gaze has already lingered over her body too long to be remotely appropriate. Clearing his throat he asks, “How’s the water?”

“I hope you like your showers with a hint of suspense. It has an oddly irregular hot and cold pattern that will really keep you guessing.”

“Ah but there’s some actual hot water in there somewhere. See, things are looking up.”

Her face lights up with a smile that helps a little to ease the awkwardness between them - though not the decidedly sexual tension that continues to bounce around in the small space.

Looking at the remote control in his hands, she asks the most obvious question available to her. “Are you hoping to get the TV working?”

“I’m going to give it a try,” he shrugs turning back towards the small television in the corner on the room.

“The clerk said it was broken,” she frowns moving to stand in front of the screen with him.

“ _Ethan_ looks like he’s about twelve years old. He also said this was a double room; what does the hell does he know?” he grumbles, hitting the power button on the remote.

To both their surprise it does in fact turn on. However any hint of accomplishment either of them have about that instantly falls flat.

“Oh my god,” Sam rushes out as they’re faced with some fairly graphic pornography.

Jack’s eyes widen and he fumbles with the remote, quickly trying to change the channel. Rushing, he hits the volume up instead and the exaggerated moans fill the room. The channel buttons aren’t working at all, no matter how hard or how many times he hits them in his quiet panic. Frantically he tries the off button, but of course now it’s sticking and it won’t co-operate.

“Carter! Make it stop!”

Sam tilts her head to the side, momentarily distracted by the image in front of them. “How is she doing that?”

“ _Carter!_ ”

“Sorry, sorry!” Quickly she moves to reach behind the unit and switches the power off at the wall, unplugging it for good measure.

Silence fills the room again. So much for that awkward tension that they were working on breaking - it’s come back with gusto and is bouncing around happily with the sexual one that’s just been immediately dialled up.

“Let’s never discuss this again.” He absolutely _will not_ look at her right now.

“Agreed.”

A beat passes and she does her very best not to look as visibly anxious as she’s feeling. “How about the radio?” She tries cheerily - pretending like they weren’t just effectively watching porn together, no matter how briefly.

“Sounds nice and safe.”

Heading over to the radio on the bedside table she tries to ignore the events that are stacking up against them - or maybe in their favour depending on how you look at it. Rain continues to beat down outside, occasionally brightening the room with flashes lightening. In certain circumstances it would be wonderful and maybe she’s reading into it too far, but it’s as if everything is pointing them in the direction of a romantic evening. Which is not at all helpful.

Flicking the switch on the radio, she turns the knob until the static clears and some music filters through the white noise. Marvin Gaye’s voice croons ‘Sexual Healing’ to them. Sam freezes for a moment and then turns the radio off with haste. “Seriously?” she seethes to herself. Daring to cast a glance at him, the expression on his face has her biting at the inside of her cheek.

They’re both so aware of the utter ridiculousness of their situation.

“I’m going to take that shower now,” he tells her decidedly. Hopefully it’s more cold water than hot.

 

She spends the entire time he showers agonising over where to hang her clean wet underwear in the room - somewhere he won’t see them would be nice. There are not enough options however and it is becoming rapidly clearer that her black lacy panties are going to be hanging over the only chair - right next to his boxer-briefs.

Kicking herself for even bringing _these_ panties with her, she lays them over the arm chair. What was wrong with her practical plain cotton underwear? Something he wouldn’t look twice at. Remembering back to the moment her hand hesitated when packing her bag she couldn’t pin point the reason she stopped and grabbed from slightly less comfortable pile instead. However now, with all the proverbial ducks lining up in a row, it seems it was because the universe wanted to torture them with this too.

The bathroom door opens and she wishes she’d spent the short amount of time prepping herself to see him half naked instead of fussing over her sexy underwear choices. He steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and _Holy Hannah_ if it isn’t the best thing she has seen in a very long time.

Her fingers twitch at her sides, imagining what it would feel like to touch his chest, to run her fingers through the sparse hairs there. God she wishes she had some underwear on - of any kind. Her gaze moves to linger on his wet, towel dried hair. A few droplets of water catch her attention and she follows their path as they fall from his temptingly messy hair, travelling down his jaw and continuing lower on the side of his neck where his pulse point is. Her eyes stop there, fixated on the warm, soft skin of his neck. Licking him there would be-

The clearing of this throat is obvious and her eyes meet his again. Caught.

 _-Not allowed._ Licking him there would be not allowed.

Jack sighs and rubs at his face before quickly ruffling the excess water from his hair. This is going to be tough. And he really doesn’t need her giving him heated stares like that when he’s only got a towel around him. It makes things… well… harder.

“…Carter,” he starts warningly.

“Sorry,” she winces, turning away.

“We just need to get through the night,” his voice is soft and full of understanding.

“Yep,” she nods sharply, trying to get her arousal humming beneath her skin under control.

“I think I have some playing cards somewhere in my bag. Soggy no doubt.”

“Cards sounds good,” she nods again. “Solitaire. Not poker,” she adds frowning thoughtfully.

“Right,” he agrees. Nothing sexy about solitaire. Poker on the other hand has that stripping part so easily attached to it (it would be a short round even if they did try).

They settle onto the bed, resting back against the headboard, careful to avoid any skin to skin contact. They’re close enough to smell the soap on each other though and it’s tantalising. She can understand in a way why he would suggest playing cards as opposed to trying to go straight to sleep. This way they can take some time to get use to the idea and find a way to make it comfortable; friendly instead of more-than-friendly. It’s a semi-good notion, if not somewhat half baked. Since the reality is they’re two towels away from naked and that’s a really difficult thing to look past.

The moment the cards are laid out a knock at the door interrupts them. Giving each other the same quizzical look, Jack moves to the door to see who it is.

Ethan the clerk stands in the doorway with a bottle of Champaign in his hands. “You were the ones who wanted this right?”

“No!” they say angrily in unison. They _do not_ need a bottle of bubbly.

“Geezs. _Sorry._ Must be for room next door,” he frowns at their bizarrely hostile behaviour.

“Do we look like two people who are having a romantic night in?” Jack grits out.

Ethan raises his eyebrows at him confused as he takes in their attire.

This is the most frustrating night ever.

“Never mind - don’t answer that.” Jack goes to close the door then stops abruptly, grabbing the young man’s attention again. “You know the television is stuck on porn right?”

“I told you it wasn’t working.”

“A little more detail might have been nice - just a simple heads up wouldn’t have killed you.”

He shrugs and moves on unperturbed, and Jack closes the door with a little more force than necessary.

He returns his attention to his second in command on the bed who looks positively inviting despite the pained expression of understanding on her face. Everything is flashing neon signs at them to screw the regulations… and each other. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before and he’s pretty sure he can say the same for her. Shaking his head he looks away, which as it turns out is a mistake, because a pair of very appealing black lace panties catches his eye instead. Stilling, he death glares them as a rush of arousal that spreads warmly through his veins.

“Sorry,” she apologises meekly.

“Not your fault.”

As he curses their situation once more, the storm outside seems to pick up. The wind wails louder and the rain hammers down harder on the roof than it has all night. Lightning streaks across the sky - visible around the edges of the closed curtains. A particularly bright one flashes before their eyes and the enormous bang that follows a split second later is telling of how close it hit. The lights in the room flicker once, twice and then go out, plunging the room into darkness.

A black out.

 _Of course_ there’s a black out. Because what’s more romantic than two people with a forbidden love alone in the dark in a storm. Finally he can let his shoulders sag in frustration, allowing it to rise wholly to the surface and spread across his features - now that she can’t see it. This is so deeply fucking unfair. And he knows, _he knows,_ she is thinking the same thing.

Desperate for a solution, for a reprieve in their luck, Sam reaches over to the phone on the bedside table, picking up the handset and carefully feeling for the buttons. Thankfully it still connects to the less than eager Ethan.

“Hi. The power’s out, I’m guessing you don’t have a back-up generator or anything that’s going to kick in for us?”

_“No.”_

“Any chance there’s a torch or something we could use for some light?”

_“It’s late. Why don’t you just go to sleep?”_

“We really could use some light…”

_“I’ll see what I can find.”_

“Thank you.”

Jack stands in the same place, contemplating if fate is smiling down at them or snickering spitefully. The knock at the door pulls him back into the moment. Ethan stands there with his solution in hand which Jack can barely make out in the darkness.

“Are those _candles?”_

Lord help them.

“It’s all I have.”

Jack stares at them and the box of matches, debating if he’s really going to mood light their room. Talk about fuel to the proverbial fire. “Fine,” he takes them in a huff and closes the door, knowing that by now poor Ethan must think they’re two very angry people.

Stumbling carefully to the night stand, Jack’s set out the two pillar candles and lights them up hesitantly. The room illuminates softly with the two flames, flickering shadows over the walls. As he settles himself back down next to her in silence, the scent of scent of sandalwood and patchouli begins to linger through the air.

“Are those scented candles?” she asks softly, hesitant to even bring it up.

Leaning his head back, fed up, he sighs loudly not even trying to hide it from her. “Of course they are, Carter. Of course they are.”

A huff of a chuckle that shakes her shoulders escapes her lips. She leans to the side, allowing her forehead to rest on his bare shoulder, puffing her breath on his skin for a moment before settling to rest her head against him. Her hand seeks out his in sympathy and entwines their fingers together without a second thought.

Turning his head he can just make out her somewhat sad smile and the slight crinkle of her brow as he slowly circles his thumb over her hand. Rain patters down, thunder keeps rolls in the distance, and coupled with the soft glow of the scented candles there is no denying that everything about this moment perfectly romantic. She’s radiant in the low lighting sitting next to him this way, and if her hands moves further to the right she’s going to find out exactly what affect this is all having on him.

“Let’s call it a night huh?” he murmurs into her hair. He can feel her nod against him before she turns to brush a barely there kiss against his shoulder and lets his hand go.

Shuffling down under the covers they lay flat on their backs and as close to the edge of the bed as practically possible. Their bodies still touch in the centre where the bed dips.

“At least this can’t get any worse, right?” she says softly.

“Right.”

Then they hear it; a very distinct moan from coming from the wall behind the bedhead.

Their eyes flash wide open, bodies tensing, entirely alert and aware of what kind of activity is going on in the room next to them.

“No fucking way,” he swears.

This _cannot_ be happening.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she echoes his disbelief.

The moaning becomes louder and then, rubbing salt into their wounds, they can clearly make out the words through the wall.

_“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this.”_

_“God, I know we shouldn’t do this, but I need you so much.”_

“No. Just…No! That’s too far!” He yells to the gods, to fate, to the universe that’s intent on sticking it to them tonight.

Sam covers her face with her hands, hiding behind them. “Is this really happening to us right now?”

“Carter, this room is screaming at us to have sex!”

“I wasn’t going to say it.”

“You don’t have to! One bed! Wet clothes! A blackout in a storm! There’s _scented candles_! God, even porn! And now we have to listen to two people have sex while we share a too small bed _practically_ _naked._ ”

“You forgot about Marvin on the radio.”

“Sam!”

“Sorry. I know. This is too painful.”

“No, painful is when some self-righteous jaffa kicks out your knees. Or when you get shot in the arm with a trinium arrow. Or when you get pined to a wall through the shoulder by a ball with inbuilt javelins-”

She catches on quickly to what’s he’s doing, trying to kill the mood and keep his arousal under control. “Is that working for you?”

Their neighbour’s loud moans continue - becoming progressively harder to ignore.

“No.”

They lay in silence, bitterly listening to the banging against the wall and the occasional “ _Harder! Yes! Right there! Don’t stop!”_ that accompanies it.

“Come on - finish it already,” Sam groans, flinging her arm over her eyes, which manages to draw a quiet chuckle from him.

This time he reaches for her hand between them, squeezing it tight, trying his best to make do with something rather than nothing. And as frustrated and wound up though they might be, by some small miracle they do manage to fall asleep.

 

When they begin to rouse from their slumber it’s dark. The candles have burnt out and the rain still falling down gently outside. And in spite of their best efforts they are completely naked. Towels missing, probably lost somewhere at the bottom of the bed beneath the sheets, she is curled into him. Her back to his chest, rocking her hips and wiggling against his hard length as he languidly thrusts at the dip of her ass in the fog of sleep. One of his hands cups her breast and rolls a taut nipple between his fingers. As her short nails scratch delightfully at his thigh behind her, urging him on, he wonders how long they’ve been in this compromising and tantalising position.

His breath tickles the hairs at the nape of her neck and he groans longingly, becoming acutely aware of their new situation. “Please tell me you’re awake,” his lips murmur hotly against her skin.

“If I confirm either way, are you going to stop?” she tests breathily.

“Sam when the towels literally throw themselves in I think it’s time I give up,” he nuzzles into her hair.

“Thank god,” she moans in approval, relishing in the warmth of his body, the way he feels right and perfect behind her, holding her to him.

“We tried.”

“We did.”

He sucks gently at the curve of her neck, tasting her, licking and nipping the sensitive skin there, as he moves his body against her deliberately. Turning in his arms to face him, her mouth finds his urgently, opening to him the moment their lips meet without hesitation. His tongue moves against hers, exploring her mouth in a heated kiss with a pent up energy that he is more than happy to finally release upon her. Her body arches against him, begging for his touch as his indulgent hands roam freely over her silky smooth skin. It’s clear they have been tempting each other for long enough during their sleep to leave them both wanton and ready.

Sighing into their kiss she lets her hands stroke over every inch of his skin she can reach, scraping her nails over his chest, catching on his nipples, learning what places on his body will earn her a grunt of satisfaction from him. His hardness straining against her stomach is almost too much, and she hooks a thigh over him to urge him closer still. He palms at her ass as he encourages the rhythmic movement of her hips, and she eagerly obliges as he tugs on her lower lip, breaking apart for a breath of air.

“If only we’d just started the moment we walked in the door...” she voices her thought aloud for him.

“Keen are we?” he smirks, amused at her train of thought, his thumb tracing her kiss swollen lips.

“Not enough hours in one night to get through all the things I want to do with you,” she clarifies breathily, nipping at the pad of his thumb with her teeth and finishing with a suggestive lick.

God she is so keyed up and ready and her words make his arousal twitch against her. But he knows exactly what she means, because really, chances are this opportunity isn’t going to come up again any time soon and it’s not something they are about to make a habit of. This could easily be one night in a long set of years of more tortuous waiting.

“Pick something and we’ll roll with it,” he tells her gravelly, stroking over the curve of her cheek as he cups her face.

Sighing in thought as her body moves against him, she quickly gives him her answer, “You on top; I want to feel you over me.”

The words instantly send more blood rushing south. Rolling them so she’s pinned beneath him, her fingers entwined with his holding her hands down either side of her pillow, his body stretched out over hers and his hips cradled between her thighs as he presses his hard length against the curve of her hip.

“Like this?” he asks huskily against the shell of her ear, nibbling at her ear lobe until she squirms under him.

“Half way there,” she teases with a smirk he can hear she’s wearing but cannot see.

Releasing her hands, trailing his fingers down her arms from her wrists to her breasts, he kisses, nips and licks a trail down her neck until he’s dragging his mouth over her chest. He takes his time teasing one pebbled peak and then the other, enjoying the way her fingers tug at his hair and the gasping he draws from her.

Eager to hear what other sounds she might make for him, he leans his weight on one arm and slides a hand down over her stomach until his fingers find their way through her slick folds. He groans loudly at her wetness and at the throaty hum she lets out when his fingers find her bundle of nerves.

“Please - _Jack -_ more,” she unashamedly begs him.

Giving into her desire he eases two fingers inside her, making a guttural noise at the feel of her heat clenching at his fingers as he curls them up, stroking at her insides while the pad of his thumb catches over her clit again and again. He loves the way he can reduce her to singular noises and nonsensical sounds - it’s a privilege in its own right. When she’s a moaning mess writhing under him he removes his fingers, settles his body over hers again with his hardness pressing at her entrance, and with a deep kiss fills her.

She practically sobs at the sensation of him finally inside her and a “Sir!” leaves her lips, which she’d be embarrassed about if he wasn’t grunting “Carter!” right back at her.

They fit together perfectly - move together perfectly - as in synch in this moment now as they seem to be in every other way. It’s intense and overwhelming and everything they’d imagined it would be - which is altogether wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time since this isn’t the start of a forever, it’s just a for now.

They focus on soft lips and hot mouths, teasing tongues and nibbling teeth, clutching hands and clever fingers, giving and taking as much they can before the inevitable conclusion rushes over them with a ferocity that has them coming undone loudly in each others arms.

Lying wrapped together their afterglow, she sweeps soft kisses at his lips, as he does the same, over and over as they try in vein to stop the sleep that pulls them away from their here and now.

 

Morning sunshine filters through the edges of the curtains hurting his eyes as the shrill sound of his cell phone ringing drags him from sleep. Reaching across her stirring nude form, trying not to disturb her, he grabs the offending device and flips it open.

“O’Neill,” he answers his voice thick with sleep, flopping back down into his comfortable position. “Yeah, sure. Okay. We’ll see you here soon.” Snapping the phone shut, he looks longingly down at woman in his arms that he most certainly should not be naked with. He’s having a hard time regretting anything though - especially now that she’s pressing open mouthed kisses against his chest, stirring something they don’t have time for.

“You look good,” he says lowly, barely above a whisper as the backs of his fingers trail along her arm.

She lets her finger tips traces patterns over his skin and gives him a shy smile. “So do you… How much time do we have?” The suggestion clear.

“Not enough,” he grumbles, tucking hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek. She nuzzles into his palm, placing a kiss in the centre and then one at the inside of his wrist.

“Shower?”

“You first,” he kisses her on the lips.

It probably sounds like he’s being a gentleman, but she knows what he really wants to see her walk naked to the bathroom - which she does for him - and he burns the image into his brain for a later date.

They shower, get ready and repack.

She tries her best not to giggle as he holds out her black panties to her helpfully with a smirk on his face. He rakes his eyes over her overtly when she gets dressed, mouth agape when she’s wearing only the dark lace underwear, then slowly reigning in his arousal as she puts on one more layer at a time.

They both know they have until the door opens to cram in as many stolen kisses and forbidden touches as they can, and they do their best with the short minutes they have.

“I can’t believe how much I hated this room yesterday,” he mutters looking around the cramped space as he holds her close, resting his hands gently on her hips, stoking the soft warm skin there.

“I know. I kind of like it now,” she agrees, peppering kisses at his collar bone.

“Mm. It has a certain appeal.”

The sound of a car pulling up outside the door draws their attention and she can’t help the deep sigh that leaves her, because when they walk through that door, all of _this_ is going to stop. And they’ll have created another room to lock their feelings in. This one is so much smaller and holds so much more - it’s hard to imagine it’s going to be capable of containing it all.

“Hey, just so you know,” he starts seriously - she thinks he’s going to say something profound - then he gestures towards the porn-only television with a tilt of his head and says, “I could definitely bend you that way.”

Biting at her lower lip in a useless attempt smother her laughter, she leans up to kiss him one last time, cupping her hand at the back of his neck to pull him down to meet her.

“Next time,” she promises against his lips, punctuated with a heated gaze as their noses brush.

“Nice.”

He tries to pretend that pulling the door closed doesn’t bother him as much as it does as they head over to Teal’c and Daniel’s car. And she tries to just be grateful that fate, or whatever, pushed them together for a least one night.

Daniel smiles brightly at them as he gets out of the car, tossing Jack the keys. “You guys got lucky finding this place huh?”

“Yes. We got very lucky,” he answers plainly, casting a glance over at Sam who ducks her head, trying desperately to hide her grin.

“I guess the universe didn’t want you to sleep in the car,” Daniel adds sliding into the back seat next to Sam.

Jack grins too as he sits in the driver’s seat next to Teal’c, eyeing her amused smirk in the review mirror. “Nope, seems like the universe wanted us to get a room.”

Turns out maybe the universe isn’t against them after all.


End file.
